


One More Time

by glitterbb



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Best Friends, Ex Sex, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, pining connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7522531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterbb/pseuds/glitterbb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a night out between Best Friends takes an unexpected turn, Connor begins to miss what used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> This MAY get edited because I'm not 100% sure of the ending.
> 
> I've always loved the idea of Connor and Oliver being exes who are now Best Friends and this kind of happened.  
> Hopefully SOMEONE likes it!

“Here, Makers Manhattan, just like I promised you.” Connor grinned, sliding in to the booth beside Oliver. “Congratulations on your promotion.” He grinned, proposing a toast, holding his glass up. “You deserve it.” He added as Oliver blushed, clinking their glasses together.

“You’re making this sound ten times more exciting than it is.” Oliver chuckled, sipping from his glass as he looked out across the bar. “It just means I get a pay rise and I get to boss people around, which I’ve been doing for the last six months anyway because Gary was an asshole.” He grumbled. Connor rolled his eyes.

“Stop being modest and let me make a fuss of you for once.” He tutted, rummaging in his pocket as his phone began to vibrate against his leg. He declined the call, without checking the ID. Anyone else could wait, this was about Oliver. “Besides,” He continued, taking a sip from his own drink. “When I passed the bar, you paid for that weekend in Atlantic City, so this is the least I can do.” He shrugged.

“That was a bit different.” Oliver snorted, playing with the sleeve of his jacket. “That was us trying to save our relationship, which we failed miserably at.” He added sarcastically, taking another sip of his drink.

“Stop focusing on the negatives.” Connor smirked, leaning closer. “Yes, our relationship died a miserable death, but we had a good trip, good food, good sex and we both came out of it with a Best Friend.” He smiled, listing things off in a matter of fact manner. “So stop whining, let me buy you a drink and find you a guy to hook up with so you can celebrate this glorious event in your career.” He winked, raising his glass again with a grin. Oliver shook his head with a smile.

Their relationship was complicated. At least as far as their family and friends were concerned. In their eyes, they were ex boyfriends who still enjoyed each other’s company. No romance, no strings, just old fashioned friendship.

Their relationship had been tough. What had started out promising enough evolved into a vicious cycle of cheating and revenge. They’d tried to make it work, tried desperately to start afresh but to no avail.

Connor had never subscribed to the idea that exes could be Best Friends, but as things stood their relationship was the healthiest it had ever been and they were both grateful for their other’s company. Someone who understood them among all the madness.

“So what are you looking for?” Connor grinned. “Young and blonde? Old and hairy?” He chuckled, scanning the room for potential guys. He had no hard feelings towards Oliver, and all he wanted was for the older man to be happy. It had been Connor’s own fault after all. He was the one who had strayed and set the whole cycle in motion. Oliver deserved better. Oliver deserved the world.

“Isn’t young and blonde your thing these days?” Oliver teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “VERY young?” He gave a knowing wink before bursting into giggles. Connor groaned.

“I’m going to kill Michaela.” He muttered, rubbing at his forehead. “She promised me she wouldn’t tell you about that.” He hissed, only serving to increase Oliver’s laughs.

“I don’t know what’s funnier, the fact you trusted Michaela to keep something a secret or the fact you slept with a boy half your age.” He grinned, relaxing back into his seat.

“Shush!” Connor hissed, darting forwards in an attempt to cover Oliver’s mouth playfully, both men dissolving into chuckles. “He was 18.” Connor mumbled, his cheeks flushing pink, something of a feat, Connor didn’t embarrass easily. “I was drunk, it was terrible and trust me, it’s NEVER happening again.” He insisted with a small shudder. Memories of waking up beside the younger man who looked like he belonged in a boyband came flooding back to him.

“Did you struggle to keep up with his stamina?” Oliver teased. Connor punched him playfully in the arm.

“I’m NOT old!” He argued. “I’m 30 and I manage fine thank you very much. I know for a fact I get more than you do.” He poked his tongue out, Oliver holding his hands up in defense.

“I’m not disputing that. I mean you’re out looking for sex enough, I’d be worried if you weren’t getting it” Oliver shot back with a sly grin. “You always were getting more than me, that was kind of the problem”

Connor took a sharp intake of breath.

“Ouch, Ollie, low blow.” He mumbled, sipping his drink. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but that didn’t stop it hurting. Oliver nibbled gently on his bottom lip, a silence falling between them.

“Sorry.” He whispered. “Look, next round is on me!” He offered, trying to lighten the mood again, standing up. “Same again?” Connor nodded, handing his empty scotch glass back to the older man, returning his awkward smile as Oliver set off across the room to stand at the bar.

Connor sighed, rummaging for his phone. One missed call from his sister. She could definitely wait, no doubt either a babysitting request or her sticking her nose into places it wasn’t wanted. Not to mention he couldn’t handle more of her incessant questions about Oliver.

He tapped out a quick text, half his attention on the screen other half drifting towards Oliver at the bar and the guy sidling up beside him. A tallish guy, smart, distinguished looking, hair showing the telltale start of grey. He was cute. Not really Connor’s type, but definitely Oliver’s. Connor sat back, a smile spreading across his lips as the two men struck up a conversation, wishing he could hear what exactly was being said.

Oliver leant in, an all too familiar smile of his face. Connor had been on the receiving end of that grin all too many times and was only too aware of it’s effectiveness. The other guy seemed to be reciprocating, the conversation flowing between them as Oliver ordered a new round of drinks.

“Get in there, Ollie.” Connor muttered to himself under his breath, a satisfied chuckle escaping as the mystery man moved closer still, a slight shiver running up Connor’s spine. No matter how much time had passed, seeing any guy getting close to Oliver still struck a nerve, no matter how fleeting.

Connor turned, fumbling around with his jacket, trying to find the arm hole. Now definitely felt like a cue to leave. A chance to let Oliver work his magic unhindered. He stood up, grabbing his phone from the table, tapping out yet another reply to Gemma.

“Where are you going?” The voice made Connor jump, spinning around to come face to face with Oliver, eyebrows knitted into a frown as he held two drinks out in front of him. “Was it something I said?” He mumbled, placing the drinks on the table and sliding back into the booth.

“No!” Connor stuttered, looking around, before sliding back into the booth and shucking off his jacket. His eyes darted across the room to where mystery man sat at the bar, now deep in conversation with the barman. “I just thought you’d found an admirer?” Connor smiled, looking back to a clearly perplexed Oliver. He followed his gaze across the room, shaking his head.

“Him?!” He hissed, a chuckle escaping. “He was asking me how long we’d been together!” He smiled. “I think you’re the one he’s interested in.” He shrugged, sipping from his drink. “Told me we made a cute couple.”

“He was probably trying to find out if you were single or not?” Connor suggested, looking back at the man. “Oh come on Ollie!” He whined with a playful smile. “He’s cute! He’s your type, and you deserve a bit of fun for once. I mean, how long has it been?” He grinned, bringing his glass to his lips.

Oliver stared suspiciously at Connor, taking a gulp of his drink. He folded his arms across himself before sitting back in his seat.

“Three months.” He whispered cautiously. “I’ve been busy!” He argued, not even giving Connor the chance to reply. “It’s not been a priority at the moment.”

“Well now’s the time to make it your priority.” Connor shot back, grabbing the glass from Oliver’s hand, sloshing it on the table in the process. “Now get back over there and let him know that you’re willing to get down on your knees and blow him to within an inch of his life.”

“Connor!” Oliver yelped as the younger man poked him incessantly until he had no chance but to slide from the booth.

“I’ll be sitting here waiting like the awesome Best Friend that I am, ready to pounce if that creep steps out of line. Just give me the nod and he won’t know what’s hit him.” Connor told him, shooing him back towards the bar. “Do it for me!” He winked, watching as Oliver let out a sigh and sloped off towards the bar.

Connor wasn’t sure how long exactly Oliver was gone for, but every minute seemed to drag past at an excruciating speed. He watched intently, an uncomfortable bubbling in the bit of his stomach as the conversation flowed between the two men, Oliver relaxing into his enforced encounter with his new companion.

Connor hadn’t dated much since he and Oliver had called it quits. There had been guys. Plenty of guys, but they all served as nothing more than a distraction from the loneliness rather than any kind of lasting commitment. It had been his fault. Everything they’d worked for came crashing down thanks to his own awful decisions and his inability to realise when he was onto a good thing.

He missed the security of a relationship, but he knew he only had himself to blame. Oliver was better off without him after all.

The two men at the bar seemed to grow ever closer, Connor unable to drag his gaze away from them. Oliver looked at the man with intrigue in his eyes, leaning in closer, hanging on his every word. Connor knew he was softening, the other man drawing him in with every sentence uttered. Oliver laughed, hanging off his every word, glancing up, his eyes meeting Connor’s.

“Shall I go?” Connor mouthed across the room. Oliver shook his head casually, holding up a finger behind the man’s back, signalling for Connor to stay put, at least for now. Connor nodded, settling back into the booth, not sure how much more of this torture he could take.

He didn’t need to wait for long, Oliver mumbling something in the other man’s ear before standing, walking back across the room and sliding in to the booth opposite Connor, a grin spreading coyly across his lips.

“What’s up?” Connor frowned cautiously, as Oliver leant in across the table. His smirk was dangerous, eyes narrowed, making Connor’s heart flutter slightly. “Ollie?” He mumbled, swallowing heavily. “Okay, now you’re scaring me.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“He’s nice?” Oliver offered, with a smile. “His name is Mark, he’s a physiotherapist and he’s cute!” Oliver admitted with a shrug, picking up his abandoned drink and taking a long sip.

“So what are you waiting for?!” Connor chuckled. “Take him home and sit on him? Come on Oliver, it’s not rocket science.” He insisted. Oliver stared back, taking another long sip, an exaggerated silence falling between them.

“He wants you to come too.” He finally mumbled with a shy grin. Connor frowned, recoiling slightly.

“What!?” He stuttered, a nervous giggle escaping. He studied Oliver’s face, realising the other man wasn’t joking. Oliver’s face was deadly serious. “Wait, are you telling me, or are you asking me to come?” He asked, folding his arms on the table, leaning in to Oliver, whose loose smile grew wider. He shrugged, eyes sparkling.

“You always used to tell me I didn’t have enough thrills in my life?” He whispered.

“Yeah, but…. you really think this is a good idea?” Connor croaked. “You want us to have a threeway with a guy you’ve just met, despite the fact we said we’d never go there again with each other?” He mumbled, the sparkle still not leaving Oliver’s eyes.

“If I’m going to do this then I’d rather it be with someone I know and trust.” He told him, taking another sip of his cocktail. “Come on, Connor, live a little.” He teased with a wink. “One last time won’t hurt.” He paused “For old times sake.”

Connor looked between Oliver and the guy at the bar, swallowing heavily. This was stupid. Everything about it was a terrible idea, and yet the thought of one more night with Oliver felt too good to pass up on. He looked at Oliver’s hopeful expression and sighed, tipping back his scotch glass and downing the remainder in one long gulp.

“Fucking hell Ollie.” He hissed under his breath with a sharp shake of the head. “Fine.” He groaned, holding his hands up. “But I want it on record that this was your idea.” He whispered.

* * *

Mark was a bastard. Not for any specific reason that Connor could think of, but the way he looked at Oliver made Connor’s stomach turn and question his moment of madness the second they stepped inside Oliver’s apartment.

Connor decided he hated him the second “Ollie” slipped from his lips in a sickeningly casual drawl. He hadn’t earned that right yet and Connor had to stop himself from correcting him in a strangely possessive manner.

Mark’s lips pressed hungrily to Oliver’s the second the door to 303 shut behind them, the all too familiar feeling of jealousy coursing straight to Connor’s heart. He stepped forwards, his hand curling around the strangers jaw, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss, not entirely sure whose benefit it was for. He tasted wrong. The sharp taste of liquor mixed with the ashy taste of cigarettes still evident on his tongue made Connor want to gag, but he carried on regardless.

Oliver grabbed his hand, their fingers entwining together as he pulled him across the apartment to their bed. What used to be their bed at least. His eyes sparkled with a mix of danger and excitement as he pushed Connor down on the bed, pulling his own shirt over his head, wasting no time.

Mark appeared behind Oliver, turning him to face him, hands pushing up his chest, kissing him again, backing him up to fall down beside Connor, climbing on top of Oliver, trailing kisses hungrily down the other man’s torso, Connor unable to do anything but watch. Oliver turned towards him, catching his lips in a rough kiss, beckoning Connor to become more involved. He cupped Connor’s cheek, his tongue licking into the younger man’s mouth, letting out a soft moan as Mark’s lips worked down to his waistband.

Hands roamed, Connor feeling like a mere bystander as Oliver became more enamoured with the man working on his crotch. Connor couldn’t quite pinpoint his emotions at the sight of another man touching Oliver like that. His Oliver.

He sprung into action, covering Oliver’s lips with his own, kissing him hungrily and deeply yet again, trying to detract from Mark’s attempts to divert Oliver’s attention back to him. He pulled Oliver closer, his friend moaning into his mouth as Mark’s lips sunk down over the head of his aching cock.

Connor’s head spun. The bedroom had always been his domain, and he’d never felt so hopelessly out of his depth before, struggling to keep up with the pace and feel included in the action. It was stupid, completely meaningless, exactly what Connor did best, and yet somehow, the fact it was with Oliver was sending a rush of confused emotions through his body.

He was snapped from his thoughts as he felt fingers slide beneath the waistband of his own boxers, peering down as a hand wrapped around his half formed erection, the stranger smiling back, eyes full of danger as his lips sunk down, taking him in the warmth of his mouth, his right hand still working on Oliver.

Everything felt wrong. For a man who used his hands in his line of work, Mark’s fingers felt cold and harsh, his touch had none of the magic that Oliver’s had, his tongue touching all the wrong places, making Connor squirm rather than moan in pleasure. Oliver’s eyes searched his exes, a frown forming.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked quietly. Mark pulling away, waiting for approval. Connor looked between the two of them, both staring back expectantly, his stomach twisting with both anger and need. He wanted Oliver, and he wasn’t about to let this creep win him all to himself.

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard.

“I’m fine.” He whispered coolly. “Just… the drink.” He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” He nodded, shifting further up the bed. Mark chuckled, crawling up Connor’s body.

“Relax.” He mumbled calmly, lips nipping at Connor’s collarbone. “You’ll have more fun that way.” He winked, kissing Connor roughly, tongue roaming wildly, thumb grazing across his cheekbone. The younger man surrendered completely, submitting to the kiss. Connor could do this. Switching off emotions had always been his greatest skill.

Mark’s hands roamed, pressing firmly to Connor’s skin, lips hot and wet on his neck, coaxing him to reciprocate. Finally, he pulled the stranger closer, giving him what he wanted, embracing him completely.

Hands pushed Mark away roughly, Oliver appearing above Connor, taking the other man’s place, letting out a soft chuckle as he pulled them both back into a deep, passionate kiss.

“Fuck me, Connor.” He whispered, voice heavy with need.

* * *

It felt like a dream. Connor had woken in this bed so many times, yet none had filled his head with as much confusion and uncertainty as this occasion.

“You awake?” Oliver’s voice mumbled from the foot of the bed. Connor jerked up, taking in the sight of the older man, boxers slung low on his hips, hair mussed adorably, nursing a mug of coffee.

“What time is it?” Connor grumbled, running a hand through his own hair, fighting the pillows and sheets to pull himself up. “Is there more coffee?” Oliver rolled his eyes, handing the mug in his hands over. One of the positives of them taking their coffee the same. Dash of milk and two sugars. “Where’s you know who?” Connor hissed as Oliver returned to the kitchen, pouring himself a new drink, a smirk spread over his lips.

“Mark?” He chuckled. “I heard him do the walk of shame at about 6am. The sun was barely up.” He explained, stirring the coffee and making the way back to the bedroom, perching on the edge of the bed.

“Shame?” Connor winked. “We were fucking awesome?” He teased, offering his palm for a sarcastic high five. Oliver shook his head with a smirk, sipping from his mug. 

“I don’t think Mark thought so.” He muttered, eyes sparkling. Connor frowned.

“How do you mean?” He pouted, gulping down his coffee, peering around, still not entirely sure what time it was. Oliver rolled his eyes again, picking at a loose thread on the sheets.

“He didn’t exactly get a look in?” He shrugged. “We kinda…. got caught up with each other.” He added, a blush spreading across his cheeks, looking into the bottom of his mug rather than at Connor. “I don’t think he banked on playing spectator.” 

The younger man fidgeted uncomfortably, sliding his mug on the bedside table and grabbing for his phone. 10am. Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in this late.

“We know each other, Ollie.” Connor reasoned with a sigh, throwing back the sheets and pulling his discarded clothes together. “That’s all it was. If he didn’t want that then he shouldn’t have gotten you to invite your ex to a threeway.” He shrugged, trying to swallow down the feelings of jealousy and possessiveness he’d had rushing back to him the previous night. The way his heart danced as Oliver kissed him and the unforgettable feel of his skin beneath his fingertips. It was nothing but nostalgia he kept telling himself repeatedly.

“I didn’t tell him you were my ex.” Oliver smirked. “Just that we were friends.” Connor paused, fighting his way into his trousers.

“Well I’m guessing he figured it out.” He shrugged, pulling his t-shirt the right way through and yanking it over his head. “You and me are cool though… aren’t we?” He checked, trying to hide the concern rising in his stomach.

Oliver nodded quickly, downing the last of his mug and placing it on the floor.

“Yeah, of course?” He frowned. “I mean, he was fine but… I’m glad you were here to save me.” He giggled. Connor grinned.

“Well you know I’m always here to save my favourite damsel in distress.” He teased, throwing an arm around Oliver’s neck and pressing a rough kiss to the top of his head. “It’s what friends do.” He smiled, emphasising the friends. He grabbed his phone and pushed it into his pocket. “You can do better than him, Ollie.” Connor offered. “Much better.”

“You’ve changed your tune.” Oliver chuckled. “He wasn’t THAT bad.” He reasoned. Connor nodded.

“And yet you still chose to let me fuck you rather than him.” He drawled, low and dangerous in his ear.

“You’re an ass.” Oliver tutted, reaching out and playfully smacking the younger man on the arm.

“You love it.” Connor smirked triumphantly.

* * *

“You look terrible.” Michaela smirked as she handed Connor a glass of wine, dropping down on her couch next to him. As close as he and Oliver were, his midweek catch-ups with Michaela had become something of a lifeline for him. A chance to vent and to wind down from just how hectic his life had become. 

Michaela understood him and he valued their friendship deeply. Someone on his wavelength who had an idea of what he was going through.

“You always say the nicest things.” Connor sighed with a shake of his head, accepting the glass gladly. 

“You know I don’t lie.” She smiled sweetly, curling her feet underneath herself. “So what’s happened? Terrible client? Awful case? I’m sure I’ve heard it before.” She chuckled settling in to hear Connor’s latest tale of woe. She was used to them by now. 

Connor stared at her, sighing heavily, a regretful groan escaping. Michaela narrowed her eyes. 

“No… it’s not work.” He croaked. “It’s Oliver?” He explained with a grimace. Michaela rolled her eyes.

“If I had a dollar for every time Oliver is the problem I’d have enough to retire.” She sighed. 

“It’s not like that.” He grumbled, not quite able to meet her inquisitive stare. “We went out the other night and we…” He tailed off, still not quite able to believe it had happened.

“Spit it out, Connor!” Michaela urged, hanging on his every word. 

“We slept together.” He winced, Michaela’s eyes widening immediately. 

“What the hell?!” She choked, leaning in closer. “Are you serious? I thought you two were just friends?” Words spilled from her mouth at a rate of knots.

“I thought we were just friends!” Connor retorted with a heavy sigh “Now I don’t know what’s going on.” He groaned. “Now I feel more confused than ever.” Michaela narrowed her eyes. 

“Well he must have said something?” She frowned. “You can’t just sleep together and not talk about it afterwards.” She told him sternly, already suspicious of the vagueness of the story. Connor shrugged, taking a long gulp from his drink.

“We just carried on like normal.” He explained. “It was just supposed to be a stupid friends thing, but…” He shook his head. “It made me realise everything I lost.” He sighed. “It made me miss him.”

“No, Connor.” Michaela interjected. “You two can’t go through all this again.” She urged. “You hurt each other so badly.” 

“But we were younger then!” Connor argued.

“You split up five years ago, Connor. You haven’t changed that much.” She countered immediately. Connor considered for a moment. 

“But we’ve been friends.” He started. “When we were together everything happened too quickly.” He sighed. “We didn’t communicate, we just got carried away by lust.” He shrugged. “I know Oliver better than that now.” 

“Yeah, but a relationship…” Michaela mumbled. “Is it really worth risking your friendship for one more shot?”

Connor let out another long sigh, staring into the distance, considering the options. Pursuing Oliver again could go work in his favour or blow up spectacularly in his face, and he wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk. 

“What if it works this time?” He whispered, almost hopefully. Michaela shrugged, placing a reassuring hand on his knee. 

“I guess that’s a choice you’re going to have to make on your own.” She paused. “Why were you two even sleeping together in the first place.” She questioned. “Something must have happened between you?” 

Connor’s lips twisted into a sly smirk. 

“It’s a long story.” He teased. Michaela sat forward and grabbed the wine bottle from the coffee table, refilling his glass. 

“We have all night.” She grinned mischievously.

* * *

“Just let me buy you one more drink?” Connor chuckled, waving the bartender back towards him. The guy on the stool next to him smiled, wringing his hands together. 

“I promised my boyfriend I’d Skype him.” He sighed, checking his watch nervously. Connor rolled his eyes, leaning in close to his side. 

“He ditched you to go on a holiday with his family who he still hasn’t told about you.” He pouted, sliding another scotch towards the guy. “Let him stew a little, it’s the least he deserves.” Connor offered with a devious grin. “You can do better than him anyway.” He teased. 

Oliver had a date. A date he’d been excited for for weeks and Connor couldn’t stand it. They were friends, really good friends, but ever since that night, the thought of someone else touching Oliver, kissing Oliver, being in any way intimate with Oliver made his stomach turn.

He knew he’d blown his chance, and he had no right to be so possessive, but ever since that night, something within him had been rekindled. Every feeling of affection he’d ever had for Oliver had been intensified and he’d found himself spending many a night reminiscing over just what he’d lost. Every conversation he’d ever had with friends and family downplaying their closeness had suddenly felt strangely significant.

But Oliver clearly didn’t feel the same, and his excitement for his date had only served to send Connor deeper and deeper into a pit of self loathing, so he’d retaliated in the only way he knew how. The guy alongside him had been in the right place at the right time and Connor wasn’t about to give up without a fight.

“Come on, live a little.” Connor smiled, clinking their glasses together. “We can have fun together.” He offered, smiling confidently. 

“You’re a bad influence.” Jake, or Josh, or whatever the guy’s name was mumbled with a smirk, taking a small sip of his drink. He wasn’t even a ten. A solid eight if anything, but Connor had made his mind up and there was no backing out now. He was making this happen, anything to distract him from whatever Oliver might be getting up to right about now.

“You worry too much.” Connor purred, leaning in close to the other guy. “We’re just two guys, getting drinks, blowing off steam.” He reasoned. “Where’s the harm in that?” He questioned confidently. The other man fidgeted slightly, grinning coyly back at Connor.

“I’m not having sex with you.” He smiled, as if verbalising it would some how make it so. His eyes betrayed him, sparkling with a certain danger that told Connor he wasn’t going to have to work much harder to get what he wanted. This guy was putty in his hands.

“That’s a shame.” Connor shrugged. “But it’s your loss.” He teased, taking another sip from his drink. “Besides, you mentioned sex, not me.” He winked.

His companion swooped in, kissing Connor deeply, clasping his jaw and pulling him close. Connor wobbled precariously on the edge of his stool, falling into the other man, allowing him to deepen the kiss further still. Suddenly the guy tore away, sliding his hand into Connor’s, pulling him forcefully from his seat and across the heaving floor of the club in the direction of the toilet. Connor followed triumphantly, allowing himself to be lead.

The toilets were quiet, Connor letting out a grunt as Joe (?) pushed him against the counter top reigniting the kiss once more, hands pushing up Connor’s shirt, searching for more.

The vibration in Connor’s pocket took him by surprise and he pulled away, fumbling to extract his phone.

“Leave it.” The guy panted, pulling Connor’s face back to him. Connor jerked out of his grasp, glancing at the screen.

Oliver.

“I can’t.” He whispered, trying to extract himself from the embrace, bringing the phone to his ear as the kisses continued, warm on his neck. “Hello?” He gasped.

“Connor?” Oliver’s voice crackled down the line. “I need you.” He hissed urgently. Connor pulled away again, pushing the kisses away forcefully.

“What’s up?” He asked, concern pounding in his chest, stepping away, bringing a hand to his head.

“Are you busy?” Oliver inquired casually. Connor glanced back at the other guy, already inspecting himself in the bathroom mirror.

“No.” Connor muttered. “No, is everything okay?”

“This guy is a creep.” Oliver hissed urgently down the line. “I need you to save me.” He pleaded. “Just give me an excuse to get out of here.”

“Come on, Connor,” the other guy drawled, growing impatient with the interruption, moving close and curling a hand round Connor’s neck desperately.

“Where are you?” Connor asked, lips back on his neck, trying to fight the temptation to stay.

“That bar on Prince Street.” Oliver explained. Connor knew it well. He and Oliver had spent many a night in there together. Happy times together.

“Gimme ten minutes.” Connor told him, hanging up the call. “I have to go.” He muttered, extracting himself from the kisses currently being showered on him, making to the door. “Don’t cheat on your boyfriend.” He mumbled over his shoulder.

“Connor!” The guy called after him but to no avail. Connor marched purposefully towards the exit, picking up his pace as he hit the pavement. The streets were busy and Connor briefly contemplated hailing a cab before setting off on foot. He knew where he was headed and it was quicker to cut through the crowds than it was to navigate the late night traffic.

He could have helped Oliver by phone. The classic emergency call to bail him out, but that didn’t feel enough. He wanted to be there in person. He wanted to be there to check everything was okay. To put his own mind at rest if nothing else. 

Connor pushed his way through the crowd congregated at the door of the bar, scouring the room until his eyes locked on a table in the corner. Oliver sat, gripping his drink as if his life depended on it whilst a middle aged man sat unnervingly close, grinning widely as he invaded his personal space, seemingly oblivious to just how uncomfortable Oliver actually was. Connor swallowed his red mist, pushing his way through the crowd until he towered over the table. 

“Hey!” He smiled, fidgeting nervously from foot to foot, staring Oliver in the eyes. “So, this is going to sound kind of forward, but I’ve been admiring you across the room all night and I wondered if I could maybe buy you a drink?” He asked bluntly, a grin spreading across Oliver’s lips. 

“If you’d been admiring him all night, then you’d have noticed that we’re on a date.” His companion butted in, clearly irritated. “He’s spoken for.” Connor looked between the two, holding his hands up.

“I think he can answer for himself?” He offered, urging Oliver on. “And to be fair, I think you’re fighting a losing battle.” He added, not able to resist an extra dig. 

“What did you say?” The guy yelled, pushing his chair back and bringing his face scarily close to Connor’s, alcohol evident on his breath as he bellowed.

“Stop it!” Oliver hissed standing up and pressing a hand to his date’s chest, pushing him backwards, forcing a gap between the two men. 

“I said, your date looks bored.” Connor reiterated, smirking as he riled the other man. “And I’m offering him a good time? Better than you could offer him at least.” 

“Fuck you, asshole” The guy snapped, lunging forwards and swinging wildly for Connor, his fist falling short and failing to make contact. 

“Stop!” Oliver yelped, pushing the two men apart, rolling his eyes at Connor and his heavy handed approach. “You need to leave.” He sighed.

“Thank you!” Oliver’s date smirked triumphantly. 

“I meant you.” Oliver tutted with an apologetic glance. “He’s right, this is never going to work out between us. I’m so sorry.” He sighed as the guy’s face fell. He looked between Connor and Oliver a bemused sneer spreading across his face as defeat loomed. 

“You’re welcome to him.” He finally spat, grabbing his jacket from his chair and flouncing off across the room. 

Connor chuckled, Oliver smacking his arm before dissolving into his own giggles.

“You’re an idiot.” He sighed, grabbing his own jacket, sliding it on his shoulders. “I thought he was going to hit you!” He gasped, linking an arm through Connor’s. 

“He deserved it!” Connor shrugged. “Are you okay? He looked like he was getting a bit over familiar.” He frowned, concerned for Oliver more than himself.

“Oh god, no.” He retorted. “He didn’t touch me, he was just a straight up creep.” He shuddered, leading Connor across the room and back out to the street. “Luckily I have a knight in shining armor.” He grinned, the cool breeze hitting them as they stepped out into the night, people milling about, either making their way home or moving to a new bar.

An awkward silence fell between the two men, Oliver fidgeting slightly, clearly not sure what to say or do next. 

“Sure you’re okay?” Connor frowned, feeling something between them. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Oliver seemingly snapped out of his daze, nodding enthusiastically. 

“Let me buy you a drink.” He offered, “Maybe somewhere a bit quieter?” He suggested. “Or we could go back to mine…” He tailed off, the offer hanging in the air.

Connor swallowed hard. It was innocent, Connor knew that, yet something, somewhere in the back of his mind was telling him it could quickly turn the opposite way. He didn’t trust himself, not right here, not right now.

Michaela’s words played heavy on his mind. They’d hurt each other, and their friendship had taken a lot of work and was worth so much. One more shot was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

Connor glanced at his watch. 

“I can’t” He muttered apologetically. “It’s late and… I promised my boss I’d get some files to him first thing tomorrow.” He lied, his voice quivering slightly.

Hurt flashed momentarily across Oliver’s face, but he swallowed it down, nodding bravely. He clearly knew it was a lie. 

“Well, at least share a cab with me?” He asked, moving to the curb and trying to thumb down a passing car. “I’ll pay.” He winked with a chuckle. Connor paused, a car pulling up alongside Oliver. “Come on!” Oliver urged. “Let me make sure you get home safe. I wouldn’t want you to let your boss down.” He teased.

* * *

Connor didn’t want a reward. Just knowing Oliver was safe and happy had been enough compensation for him.

Weeks had passed, Connor trying to keep some kind of distance from Oliver, avoiding being left alone with him, whilst simultaneously trying to hide the fact. Oliver wouldn’t budge though, and Connor had had no choice but to surrender to the older man’s requests. 

“Just let me buy you dinner.” Oliver had insisted impatiently, “I just want to say thank you for the other night.”

Which was how they ended up cooped up on a table for two in the corner of their favourite restaurant in town. Moretti’s was busy for a Friday night, every table filled with people celebrating or on dates, the room had a buzz of background chatter as everyone went about their business together.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Connor smiled as the waiter cleared away the plates, half a bottle of wine still on the table between the two of them. “We’re friends, Ollie, it’s what friends do.”

“I know, but it’s more than that.” He chuckled, folding his arms on the table. “I’ve got you involved in some pretty crazy shit the last few weeks and you’ve…” He tailed off. “You’ve been great.” He sighed. 

“I’m always great!” Connor teased with a cheeky wink as he took another sip from his wine glass. Oliver giggled. 

“I can think of times when you weren’t.” He shrugged. Connor tensed immediately, blindsided by the low blow. He was all too aware of the times he’d been awful. He and Oliver had thrashed through them enough times in the past. Every argument and fight had left scars no matter how healed and faded they were five years later. Oliver clawing at them still stung. “We were both bad.” He finally reasoned as if realising his mistake.

“We had good times though.” Connor offered, trying to calm the tension. A reminiscent smile spreading across his lips. Oliver nodded with a chuckle, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asked, a sparkle in his eye, leaning on the table, waiting for Connor’s response. The younger man snorted. 

“Of course I remember?” He grinned. “You looked so scared when I spoke to you!” He giggled. 

“I thought you were talking to me for a dare!” Oliver argued. “Guys like you don’t just come up to guys like me and start talking” He grinned. “I’m used to sitting on the sidelines.” Connor shook his head.

“It was a party, and you were far too cute to leave sitting on your own.” He winked. “I always told you that.” He paused, a devilish glint in his eye. “Do you still put out on the first date?” He smirked. Oliver rolled his eyes. 

“Oh no, you were the exception.” He drawled sarcastically. “Admit it, you were never intending for us to be more than a one night thing.” 

“I’m just glad that we were.” Connor smiled with a sigh. 

Oliver was right. When they’d met at a party all those years ago, Oliver just a shy quiet guy lingering in the corner nursing a drink, Connor had never envisaged things lasting more than one night. A quick fuck to pass the time, someone too sweet to pass up on. 

Instead he’d found a friend. A partner. A soulmate. Someone he loved and trusted, and who was still there for him, in spite of the ups and downs. Oliver was the most special person in his life, and the fact that things could have been so different still scared him.

“Do you remember that first Christmas with your family?” Oliver laughed, trailing his finger absent-mindedly across the tablecloth. “Your niece and nephew walked in on us on Christmas morning and I accidentally gave away that Santa doesn’t exist.” He paused. “Not my finest moment.”

“They still loved you though.” Connor offered. “My mum still asks when you’re coming back.”

“I’ll come back when I’m invited?” Oliver smiled, folding his arms. “My mum is the same though.” He confessed. “Connor was such a nice boy, anak, you’re not going to do better than him!” He prodded his finger violently in the air, his impersonation of his mother something he’d mastered over the years. 

“Your mum hated me though?” Connor frowned, earning a tut from Oliver.

“You’re a lawyer, Con. I don’t have an impressive job so she’s going to make damn sure I settle down with someone who does.” He explained, draining the last of his glass and pouring the last of the bottle between his and Connor’s glasses. Connor picked his up, sipping meekly from it. 

“You can do better than me, Ollie.” He whispered, leaning on the table, his voice taking on a sad tone. ”You deserve better at least.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oliver frowned, leaning back in his chair, simultaneously signalling the waiter to bring the bill. Connor shrugged, swilling the dregs around his glass. “We had our moments but you weren’t all that bad!” He tried to reassure Connor. 

“I cheated on you though.” Connor argued. 

“And I wasn’t exactly squeaky clean.” Oliver countered. “We had some really special moments. You were a good boyfriend when you wanted to be.” He shrugged. “Like when you tracked down that Super Nintendo for me because I told you how much I missed my one from when I was a kid.” He paused. “And you went and found all those super rare Pokemon cards for me so I had a complete original set.” He smiled to himself as he reminisced. “I know you’re a good person.” He nodded defiantly. “Why else do you think we’re still friends?” He winked. 

Connor sat back in his chair, downing the last of his drink as the waiter placed the check down. He watched as Oliver rifled through his wallet, producing a wad of notes and placing them on the small metal dish, before grabbing for his glass and emptying the small drop in the bottom. 

“Shall we?” He asked with a smile, pushing his chair back and gathering up his belongings. 

It was a warm summer night, neither man needing a jacket, as they fell in step on the walk home. Oliver fidgeted slightly before taking a deep breath. 

“Level with me, Connor.” He sighed eventually, wringing his hands together. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asked, his voice trembling slightly. Connor instantly got the impression this had been playing on the other man’s mind for some time.

“No!” Connor choked, shaking his head. “God no, what the hell gave you that idea?” He stuttered. Oliver pursed his lips staring unsurely at Connor, before bringing his eyes firmly back to the floor, as if he couldn’t quite face this. 

“I just…” He stopped, searching for the right words. “I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me?” He shrugged. “We used to hang out all the time, we’d never hide things from each other, but now? I had to practically force you to come to dinner with me, and now you’re telling me I can do better?” He frowned, anguish etched on his face. “Are you bored of me? Because… I get it.” He whispered. “I can back off, or give you some room?” He paused. “Or if you’ve met someone, then you can tell me!” He offered, trying to put on a cheerful face. “I’ll be happy for you.” He smiled, the tears brimming in his eyes all too evident that it made Connor’s heart break. He’d done this. Yet again, he’d managed to hurt Oliver. 

“Stop it.” He hissed harshly, coming to a standstill on the pavement. “Fuck, Oliver!” He groaned, shaking his head, the other man stopping in front of him, stepping closer, eyes full of hope. Connor searched for the right words. He couldn’t do it any more. Oliver deserved the truth. Slowly he began to nod. “Yes.” He muttered. “Yes, I’ve been avoiding you, but it’s nothing that you’ve done.” He grabbed Oliver’s hand, his thumb running over his knuckles. “This is me. All me.” He reassured him with a weak smile. 

“Connor, I don’t…” 

Lips cut him off, Connor swooping in, unable to hold back any longer. The kiss was deep and needy, Connor’s fingers cupping Oliver’s jaw, pulling him in even closer, tongue licking inside, hungry and desperate for more. He pulled away quickly, holding his hands up, taken aback by his own actions. 

“I’m so sorry.” He gasped, panting for breath. 

“Connor…”

Connor stumbled backwards, shaking his head. 

“I’m so sorry Oliver.” He whispered, turning on his heel.

“Connor, wait!” Oliver shouted, to no avail as Connor ran down the street as fast as he could, never looking back.

* * *

“Connor!” Oliver’s voice drifted through the front door, accompanied by endless knocking. “Connor, I know you’re in there!” He yelled. 

Connor stood, pressed against the wall, still trying to catch his breath from the run home. His stamina wasn’t what it used to be, something Oliver used to tease him over mercilessly. He hoped he’d leave, at least give him some breathing room. A chance to come to terms with what he’d done, but Oliver could be stubborn when he wanted to be. 

The hammering stopped briefly and Connor was sure he could he rustling outside the door. 

“Please Connor.” Oliver sighed. “I can wait out here all night if I have to.” He mumbled, his voice coming from lower down, he’d clearly settled in on the floor. “I don’t mind all your neighbours hearing this if you don’t?” He stated. 

“Just go home Oliver.” Connor stammered, wrapping his arms around himself. “Please. I’ll call you.” He offered. 

“We both know that’s not going to happen.” Oliver replied. “I leave, you hide in here, no one hears from you for days… We need to sort this right here and now.” He insisted. “I’m not mad, Connor, I just want an explanation.” He whispered. “Don’t you think I deserve that much?” He sighed. Connor groaned. Oliver was right. He hated Oliver being right.

Connor reached out, turning the lock, the door swinging back. Oliver peered around the frame, picking himself up from the floor. He looked calm, almost apologetic. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered.

Connor moved into the apartment, Oliver following him inside, closing the door behind the both of them. 

“How can I tell you that?” Connor countered. “Hey Oliver, remember how much I fucked up last time? Well I’m head over heels in love with you again and I don’t know what to do about it.” He threw his hands up dramatically. 

“Well, you could tell me for starters.” Oliver deadpanned, earning a roll of the eyes from Connor. “How long have you felt like that?” He asked calmly, none of this phasing him. 

Connor shrugged, throwing himself down on the couch, running his hands roughly over his face. 

“I don’t know.” He croaked. “I guess…” He tailed off, not wanting to admit it. “I guess I never really stopped loving you.” He sighed. “You’ve been the most special person in my life for so long now that I can barely remember a time when you weren’t.” He admitted. “I’ve always been able to hide away from just how much you meant because we’ve always had those boundaries. We’re ‘Just friends’.” He sighed. “And then…”

“And then we blurred the boundaries.” Oliver interrupted, taking the words right out of Connor’s mouth. “I get it, Connor.” He whispered, moving close and perching down on the footstool directly in front of the younger man. He clasped his hands together. “And that’s why I wish you’d spoken to me about it, rather than trying to deal with this on your own.” He mumbled. Connor shook his head.

“I don’t want us to ruin what we have as friends.” He pouted.

“We don’t have to” Oliver argued, sliding into the gap beside Connor. “We can have both.” He suggested, a smile playing on his lips.

“How?!” Connor frowned. Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“All I ever wanted from you, Connor, was a proper relationship.” He sighed. “I wanted us to talk, and understand each other. I wanted us to be best friends as well as lovers.” He paused. “I wanted us to be everything we’ve been for the last five years.” He explained. 

“I don’t understand?” Connor mumbled, earning an exasperated sigh from the other man. 

“When we broke up, you were a different person.” Oliver explained. “Our relationship is so different to what it was back then.”

“Good different or bad different?” Connor smirked. 

“Very good.” Oliver purred. “You’re kind, you’re caring, you’re always there for me.” He paused. “I trust you, Connor.” He whispered, lips pulling into a smile.

Connor sat up and moved closer, sliding his arm along the back of the couch, crowding Oliver slightly. 

“I don’t care what we label ourselves as, Connor.” Oliver smiled, bringing a hand to cup Connor’s cheek. “We can be friends, lovers, boyfriends, fuck buddies. We can be whatever works for us. We can figure it out as we go. All I care about is that you’re a part of my life.”

“So… what you’re saying, is if I kissed you again, you wouldn’t be mad?” He grinned, voice low and breathy. Oliver giggled. 

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” He grinned, sliding his hand around the back of Connor’s neck, pulling him back in close, electricity flowing as their lips met one more time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to sanyumi and Blink_Blue for all the help and advice :)


End file.
